Living with yourself: the burden of constant self-reinvention
Spoilers ahead.
‘You’re welcome.’
These are the first words we see the hero of Living with yourself says to a fly he just smashed against the window.
This sets the tone for this great series, oscillating between laughter and despair (a good mix). The hilarious — yet insightful Living with Yourself series tackles one issue that everyone might face, whether it is in your late 20s, mid-30s, 40s: the infamous mid-life crisis. Here is how this vibrant series encompasses the trials and tribulations of self-reflection in a work environment marked by the constant pressure to perform and be positive.
The weight of work expectations: defined by your job
Here’s the pitch. Tired, burned out, Miles is struggling. He should be happy, he should — he’s got a beautiful wife, a nice executive job in advertising, and yet he’s reached an impasse. He can’t seem to find the reason why he works anymore. His creativity seems lost, and to make matters worse, even his annoying co-worker surpasses him at pitching new ideas. At home, he can’t seem to think about anything else but his lack of drive, which triggers an overbearing sense of guilt. Like many of us, his lack of professional drive is deeply linked to his own identity, self-perception and self-worth. It even starts to creep into his marriage.
Miles seems defeated until his annoying colleague Dan hands him a card to visit a strange ‘spa’ held by two Koreans that seem to perform a strange treatment. The idea is simple: by ‘fixing’ your DNA, you will be rejuvenated into ‘a better self’. Miles just decides that might do the trick.
What is interesting here is the commodification of his mental health. Many of us can turn to an easy fix when it comes to stress, burnout or difficulty to perform. This has been perpetuated by decades of advertisement as well as by many makeover shows, where the protagonist almost magically overcomes his fears with a new house or clothes. It has also been reinforced by the use of digital pacifiers — our phones — that offer a distraction from any feeling of discomfort or tension. So, just as we would hire a professional to give us a new haircut or take care of our taxes, Miles decides to pay an ‘expert’ to recover from his apparent depression, overlooking the fact that the spa looks like an abandoned building. At this point, he would rather have someone remove his current problem.
Of course, if Miles wanted a quick fix, that’s not really what happens. We quickly learn that the spa is cloning its clients, discarding the ‘old version’… well, simply by murdering them and burying them into the woods. If that’s not the most abrupt version of self-reinvention, I don’t know what is. The nightmare is complete: a better self has come to replace the old, ‘used’ Miles. His decision to go for ‘fixing his mental problems in one swoop’ is his downfall — and the start of a long, funny and sometimes painful process of self-reflection and (literal) confrontation with himself.
‘My biggest enemy is me, pop a 911’
The theme of a threatening clone, alias, or twin, is of course, not new in television or literature. The idea of replacing the main protagonist has been dissected in Rick and Morty’s ‘Rest and Ricklaxation’ episode (season 3, episode 6), or Star Trek, in a title encapsulating the fear of inadequacy and replacement: ‘The Enemy Within’ (Star Trek TOS; S1, E5). These fears ring true in the age of automation and machines — but in the case of ‘Living with yourself’, the ‘clone’ is not simply a villain. A double is usually here to highlight a double nature within us, ‘the good VS the bad one’. This has been the case in many soap operas, through the hilarious use of the ‘evil twin’ (hello, Ursula from Friends), or in movies (Alien: Covenant).
What is interesting here is the transformation of the ‘bad/good clone’ idea into an original person undergoing an existential crisis, and one that is better — or enhanced — by some kind of replicating technology. It’s a twisted mirror of what we could be — except for the fact that New Miles is also conflicted about his own identity, having no uniqueness and not knowing where he belongs. And so, the antagonism between Original Miles and New Miles is at once a confrontation, a process of re-discovering what made Original Miles happy, and the beginning of his journey of self-discovery. Once his new energetic double appears, Miles gets to ‘watch his life’ from an outsider’s perspective and uses this time to reflect on why he lost his passion for his job.
Interestingly, after a few episodes, the show points out that there is value in being critical and introspective. At least, you’re able to understand the corporate intentions behind an ad campaign, something that new and energetic New Miles has not fully grasped yet. It’s shown in one episode featuring an ad by an electrical company which might destroy the lives of farmers. Original Miles realizes the ad is fake on some level and promises something untrue. His cynicism is useful in understanding what lies beyond the naive promises or the too-good-to-be-true ads. He is perceptive where New Miles isn’t.
The Pursuit of Happiness, an empty vase?
Through the series, New Miles (the clone) is trying to get a sense of self and faces an identity crisis. While Original Miles is more into the classic ‘Where can I find myself back’ (the best version of myself?), New Miles is more of a ‘Who am I, do I even have my own identity?’
As it turns out, these two pursuits change throughout the series. First, as if they were trapped in a play, each of the Miles follows their path without questioning it. Then, they confront their place in society and ultimately, face themselves. The major reason for their failure to recognize their dilemma is their inability to confront it — this is due to a certain conception of happiness ruling the lives of both companies and individuals. Happiness is seen as an objective, or worse, a means to an end.
A parallel can be made here with a series featuring another advertising guy. ‘What’s happiness?’ says Donald Draper in Mad Men. ‘It’s a moment before more happiness.’ It never stops, once you got the job, you need the promotion. You need the house, the car. And so, like a pierced vase, you can never be truly content. (By the way, in Mad Men, Donald also goes through a major creative crisis as his failures and inability to be himself take up too much space.)
Another example can be taken from Black Mirror in the ‘Nosedive’ episode. In this alternate reality, everyone rates everyone with a 5-star system. Economic or social opportunities only come to those with high ratings. In this universe, happiness is all about data and likes. It’s a target that can never be completed, and that only brings the impossibility to be truly content. Even the wealthiest want more points. Overall, the insidious idea is that, in the corporate world, you should be happy and cheerful to get something — a promotion, more points, success. Happiness is not the final goal, but simply a means to a goal, which makes the whole concept vacant and absurd. Julia De Funes, author, public speaker and Doctor in Philosophy, states that for companies, happiness has been normalized. It’s the state in which every employee should always be, as a means to more productivity and innovation. But it is almost impossible to define happiness, (try, you’ll see it will greatly vary from one individual to the next.) It depends on external factors from the company, and it is not a stable state.
‘Making happiness a condition and not a consequence of performance is a mistake of corporate thinking. Happiness is a contingency, not a necessity.’
Even if ‘Living With Yourself’ is not a story about the system trying to make you fail, you can still feel its pressure through Miles’s choices and reflexes. His road back to self-acceptance is to progressively let go of the idea of ‘finding himself back’. Miles cannot go back to his previous self because the circumstances have changed. He cannot fix it by ignoring the problem either. He has to confront his double. First from afar. Then, he fights himself directly, punches and everything. But fighting yourself is impossible. Living with Yourself’s executive producer and creator Timothy Greenberg expressed his views in an interview about the Original Miles VS New Miles fight scene: ‘It’s a physical way to show that you cannot fight yourself. There is no end to this. Like a snake eating its tail — nothing good is going to come out of this.’
In the end, Living with Yourself ends with some self reconciliation and the true start of introspection for Original Miles, who has gone full circle after ignoring the problem. It’s a real lesson for each person stuck in a rut in their work about taking some distance, without a confused clone to make the journey with you.
